St. Thomas' Episcopal Church, Reidsville, NC: Sermon: "Reflections from Bartimaeus, a formerly blind man"; The Rev. Dr. Vicki L. Smith

Reflections from Bartimaeus, a formerly blind man

Twenty first Sunday after Pentecost - October 25, 2009

Late last week, as I was wandering in the churchyard here in Reidsville, I came upon what appears to be an ancient manuscript—Its title is “Reflections of Bartimaeus, a formerly blind man.” Here is what the manuscript says:

To my brothers and sisters who also follow Jesus,

I know that you have heard my story—it was all over Judea in no time and Mark and Matthew have been telling it to everyone they know, but I want the chance to tell my story myself, in my own words.

On that fateful day, I was begging as usual on the streets of Jericho. Since I was blind, the only way I could survive was by begging, and even then I wasn’t doing very well. I’d get a few small coins every once in awhile, enough to get the occasional meal but I didn’t have a place to live or any clothes except the ones I had on.

Anyway, there I was begging as usual, when I heard that Jesus the teacher was coming to town. I’d already heard lots of stories about him—how he had healed people and cast out demons and taught in a whole new way. I’d even heard that some people thought he was the Messiah, the son of David. So to hear that he was coming, I was excited.

Then, I heard him coming down my street— he was with many other people. They made lots of noise—lots of footsteps, shouts about clearing the way, people asking for things. I could hear people pushing and shoving to get close to Jesus. I wanted to talk to him too but I knew that, being blind, there was no way I could push through that crowd. Instead, I just started to call out to him. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” I just kept shouting, over and over. And as always happens, people tried to shut me up. Either they thought I was embarrassing or they were trying to protect Jesus from me (like a poor blind beggar could do him any harm), whatever the reason, they kept trying to get me to shut up, and I kept yelling. Given what happened, I’m glad I didn’t let them shut me up—sometimes you just have to keep speaking out, even when other people don’t want you to. (I wonder if they ever figured out that it was wrong to try to shut me up and keep me away from Jesus? Humh.. I don’t know).

Anyway, finally Jesus heard me and asked me to come to him. Was I ever excited! I was so excited to go to him that I even left my cloak behind. You know I was excited if I left the only warm garment I owned laying on the ground. But it was worth it. I got to meet Jesus.

And then he said to me, “What do you want me to do for you?”

What kind of question was that—he knew I was blind, of course I wanted him to give me back my sight. I would have thought that was obvious. And I guess it was, and I’m sure he knew what I wanted, but he asked me anyway. He respected me enough not to assume what I wanted, but to ask me, and let me speak for myself. I appreciated that. I didn’t get much respect in those days, so to have the Son of David speak to me with respect… that was special.

So, when I asked what I wanted, I told him. “My teacher, let me see again.” And he did. He healed me. I could see again, as well as I could before the accident. Then he said the weirdest thing, “Go,” he said; “your faith has made you well.” Now, that’s really amazing, because I didn’t have much faith at all. I had heard his story about the mustard seed, and that’s about as much faith as I had, just a little tiny bit; enough to ask him for help, but not much more than that.

I guess that was enough—the faith to ask was all I needed to have, and he healed me. That day, and in the days to come I learned that Jesus always encourages us to ask. He didn’t always say yes, of course. James and John asked to sit on his right and left hands in heaven—he said no to that; but he always told us to ask. And then he did what was best for us. Me, he healed.

And then I just had to go with him. He was heading into Jerusalem and things got really ugly right after that, but I couldn’t go back to my old life. For one thing, people don’t give much to a blind beggar, they wouldn’t give anything to healthy one! But that wasn’t the real reason I followed him. I just couldn’t leave him after that. I know some others who did—who got healed or helped and just wandered away, but I couldn’t do that. He loved me so much, I had to love him back. I just had to listen to him teach and I so wanted to learn to live the way he wanted.

You know, there are lots of things that keep people from following Jesus—my blindness was only part of it. When he healed my blindness, he also healed all those things that got in the way of following him—he healed my big ego that told me I didn’t need him; he healed my confusion so I knew he was the one to follow; he healed my idolatry and took all that stuff out of my soul—the stuff that I’d let take the place that Jesus should really have. My blindness was only the most obvious obstacle to my following Jesus, and when he healed that, he healed all the rest too. He cleared the path so I could follow him.

And follow him I did--- Into Jerusalem, into the Garden of Gethsemane, to Pilate’s courtyard and to that horrible place of execution. I followed him from the cross to the tomb, and from there, best of all, to his resurrection. When Jesus healed me that day so long ago, I had no idea where he would take me or what would happen. I never would have imagined that not only would he give me my sight, but a whole new life as well. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Those are the most important words I said in my whole life, because they brought me to Jesus and nothing has been the same since.

Yours sincerely,

Bartimaeus, the formerly blind man

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